Wolf Who Rules

She opened her mouth and then closed it, reminding herself to think about implications and complications this time. She supposed that the tengu could make up a household like Poppymeadow's, where the crew would be under Jin and the tengu captain would be under her, yet they wouldn't be directly part of her household. She wished that she knew more about how the enclaves worked, but she suspected that they were like all things elfin, where an exchange of promises were enough to bind both parties. But how would the tengu fit into her life? There was terror deep inside her, one she didn't want to look at closely, if she promised the tengu to protect them, it would have to be against the people that she loved the most. What would she do if Windwolf refused to acknowledge her claim on the tengu? She didn't want to think about Windwolf systematically killing the tengu she had gotten to know. She didn't want him to be the type of person who could do it. Yet she couldn't stop thinking of Nathan dead in the road because she was married to Windwolf. Of the bloody streets of Chinatown. Of Tommy Chang within moments of being cut down.

If she committed to the tengu, then she might have to fight even Windwolf to keep them safe. I can't. I can't.

She pressed trembling hands to her mouth. But if she didn't protect them, who would? How could she stand aside and let them be killed and do nothing to save them? "I'll do my best to protect you, but you have to remember to do what I say, or I won't have the power to stop the elves from killing you all."

"I promise. You will have obedience of the tengu."

Her life had so many strings attached that she felt like a puppet.

"Hey! Scarecrow!" Esme called over the ship's intercom. "We're getting close to your mark in five minutes!"

Tinker swam back to the bridge, blinking on the salt burning in her eyes.

"Two minutes," Esme announced.

They waited in tense silence, bathed in the soft earthshine.

"In ten," Esme said quietly.

Tinker made sure she had her fingers in the correct position.

"We're in range."

Tinker brought her hand to her mouth and said the trigger word. Nothing happened. Her heart jolted with the sudden spike of fear. "Daaaaaaae." Still nothing. She checked her finger positions and carefully announced the trigger word. Zip. "Daaae. Daaaaae. Dae. Daaaaaaae."

"And we're out of range," Esme said.

"Oh, fuck," Tinker said.

"Just checking - it didn't work?" Jin asked.

"No." Tinker rubbed the heels of her hand into her eyes.

"Well, you better think of something else, Scarecrow." Esme said. "We only have fuel for one more burn."

***

"How's it going?" The tengu Ushi asked. Tinker was finding that while the humans treated her with slight condescension after the initial novelty wore off, the tengu regarded her with odd mix of awe and affection. The ratio of worship versus familial warmth seemed to be dependent on how well they knew her father. Either way, they kept seeking her out, wanting to know if she was comfortable, or needed anything. It was driving her to distraction.

"I'm still thinking." Thinking she needed to find a hiding place. "We're at about two hundred miles above Elfhome's surface, crossing over Spell Stones in Giza around eighteen miles per second. The reach of the Spell Stones are one mei, which is approximately one thousand miles, which means that theoretically we're within their reach for about a minute and a half."

"Why are they important?"

"They're a source of a lot of magic. If I could pull on them, then I could use the magic to trigger the spell."

She covered her eyes to think. Apparently Ushi took the cue that he was distracting her; when she opened her eyes again, he was gone. Too bad all her problems didn't solve themselves so neatly.

Why couldn't she call the spell stones? They were in range, more than a minute, nearly two, and a call took less than one. Something had to be interfering with the call. Was it that there wasn't enough ambient magic to fuel the initial call? Tinker ran her hand across the wall of the ship, focusing on her magic sense. She could feel the latent magic. It was as strong as a ley line, but with a strange texture. It was like the difference between silk and wool. Magic on Elfhome flowed, smooth and quick. The magic here buzzed with static. If the call was suppose to be resonance of magic across the DNA signature of the domana, then perhaps that chaotic nature of the magic on the ship was creating too much static to that call.